


Just Like That

by orphan_account



Category: Glee
Genre: Fantasizing, M/M, Masturbation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-23
Updated: 2011-08-23
Packaged: 2017-12-12 10:02:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/810310
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kurt masturbates long before he meets Blaine; there’s just something different about his routine now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like That

Kurt sighs and presses his hips down against the mattress.

It’s hot tonight, too hot for his blue silk pyjamas and they’ve been long discarded off the side of his bed along with his briefs (which, despite being very cute and chic, are not very breathable - why he still wears them, he isn’t sure). His blankets are kicked to the end of the bed and his fan is on, blowing slightly cooler air back and forth over his sticky back, feeling the prickle of the soft hairs on the backs of his thighs shifting with the breeze.

The heat, he can deal with. It’s summer; that is to be expected. What he can’t deal with, however, is his body’s chemistry, the way his hormones seem to rage on harder the further into summer he gets. June was okay; he spent the afternoons driving between Lima and Westerville with Blaine, where they’d spend hours kissing at each others’ houses or in the back of the car or under a tree in the park where they’re mostly hidden from prying eyes. 

Kurt would be lying if he didn’t slip his hand down too far on purpose and wave it off as an accident, or press himself down with his legs straddling one of Blaine’s just for the friction, but it has yet to advance past this. 

Kurt was the one who wanted to wait. He told Blaine, “I can’t have sex yet.”

He can’t for the life of him figure out why he’s so horny lately.

Muting a moan in his pillow, he grinds his hips against the sheets, feeling his cock mostly-hard and a little wet at the tip. He reaches back and grips his own ass -  _that’s what Blaine would do if I were about to fuck him, he’d get impatient, I know him too well_  - and his short fingernails dig marks against the flesh. His hips tilt back, curving his spine as if readying himself before fully thrusting against the bed.

His technique has evolved since he began masturbating what feels like ages ago. When he lived at the old place, just he and his dad and the whole basement to himself, he grew used to a certain way of doing things. He could come home from school - a long day of watching Finn in Glee Club and longing to touch, taste, bite,  _suck_  - and he’d touch himself, get lost in the thought of Finn on top of him, his legs spread and (with his fingers in his ass and the other hand fisted around his cock) Finn pounding into him over and over until he’d finally spill over himself. He could do this as often as he pleased, until Finn moved in and suddenly he was sharing a bedroom with the star of his fantasies. 

It became more difficult after that. He barely had time to himself, and when he did, he spent it simply relaxing and enjoying the quiet. Finn lost his magic after a while and, once the excitement died down, so did his libido. He might get off in the shower every once in a while but he just didn’t feel all that motivated.

Things changed very quickly when he met Blaine.

He felt dirty the first time, and guilty. He had  _just met_  Blaine that afternoon and he’d  _sung_  to him and given him all of this _amazing_  advice, and Kurt almost wanted to argue aloud with himself just to clear his mind when he unbuttoned his jeans and shoved his hand into his underwear.

They’d moved into the new house just recently. It’s large, but all of the bedrooms are upstairs and the walls aren’t the thickest (Kurt learned this the hard way; Finn had Rachel over the day after they moved in and she thought it best to serenade the furniture. You know. Like Rachel wont to do). Lucky for Kurt, Finn was at football practice, and his dad and Carole were both still at work. With the house to himself, he had given himself a hard, messy orgasm that nearly ruined his favourite pair of designer jeans. 

What had sort of shocked Kurt, though, was what exactly had gotten him to come. The thought that sent him over, past the point of return, was the idea of fucking Blaine.

Not being fucked  _by_  him;  _fucking_ his ass until his hole was raw and Kurt’s bare cock shooting hard inside of him. This is new. Kurt’s never even considered topping and suddenly… everything’s different. Blaine has changed him in more ways than he’s aware of. 

He hasn’t fantasized about anything aside from that (save a few good rimming fantasies) ever since. He fucks his fist and bites his own arm to mute himself when he shoots his load over his stomach and chest, imagining Blaine on top of him, riding his dick and moaning loudly with his head tipped back and his long neck exposed.

He thinks about that neck now while he humps the bed. He mouths at his pillow messily, pretending it’s the soft, tender skin of his boyfriend’s throat while he rolls his hips in a steady rhythm he thinks Blaine would like. As his heart thumps in his chest and his guts twist with pleasure he rolls over quickly, gripping himself and jerking fast; his eyes are closed tight, thinking of Blaine on top of him again and it is literally only a few more seconds before he’s coming, shuddering, biting his inner bicep and letting a huge sigh escape his nose as each shot paints his tummy.

After a moment, he licks his upper lip, tasting the tang of sweat and feeling the slightest hint of facial hair coming in. He swallows and releases his grip on himself to reach for the box of tissues on the bedside table and giving himself a hasty clean-up before grabbing his phone and sending Blaine a text. He knows he should be asleep, but it’s always a degree or two hotter in Westerville and maybe this will give Blaine the tension relief he needs.

_I love you. Come over tomorrow. I’ve changed my mind._


End file.
